Love and Lament
by HeRonFan
Summary: Inspiration is all those clips and trailers from DHP2-of Ron crying over Fred and holding Hermione.  That just begged for some fanfic to develop that emotional connnection. Hope you like it.  Appreciate suggestions that could make this multi chapter.


Love and Lament

Inspiration: Well, obviously way too many trailers, and clips from DHP2—seeing Ron cry over Fred and then he and Hermione locked together just balling their eyes out. Well, how could I just leave that alone when it gave such possibilities for my favourite couple getting emotionally closer?

Summary: The Weasley family arrives back at the Burrow after the Battle of Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione figure out how they can find happiness together amongst the sorrow.

Note: I do add a few tidbits from "Meet the Press". Not necessary to read for this though.

Disclaimer: JKRowling owns all characters, places and events. But since she left her building blocks out for just anyone to come along and play, well...

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The fireplace of the Burrow suddenly came to life with small puffs of ash appearing before each person. Molly and Arthur had thought this was a method of transport that they would stop now that all their children had taken their Apparition lessons. But the old stand-by had proven once again to be a trustworthy friend. No one seemed in the mood to Apparate from the Town Hall of Hogsmeade where they had escorted the fallen. No one trusted their level of concentration to focus enough to prevent splinching. One by one, the Weasley's walked out of the fireplace that connected their home to the floo network. All the Weasleys save for one.

Fred had not lived at home in over a year. But it did not matter. His absence was keenly felt in their hearts and minds. Suddenly, everywhere they looked, a memory of Fred was associated with each room of the house. Never mind that his twin was a mirror image and that George had been just as much responsible for the practical jokes through the years. Now, it was Fred that punctuated every thought, whether said aloud or not. His family was alive and he wasn't; the one who found the most in life to celebrate and enjoy was not among them.

They were all standing in the living room not knowing what to do. The war was over. The battle for Hogwarts had been successfully won; the Death Eaters were either dead or on the run. Imperiused people throughout Great Britain were coming back to normal. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the new Minister of Magic. Harry Potter had killed Lord Voldemort and people could breathe a sigh of relief as relatives up and down the coast slowly got word that they could return home and come out of hiding. The Weasley family, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter stood watching as each member arrived, stepping out of the fireplace to the familiarity of home. None of them felt they should be there without Fred. The people of Hogsmeade were escorting bodies for bereaved families to their chosen destination. Fred was to be brought to the funeral parlour at Ottery St. Catchpole as per Arthur's request.

Feeling somewhat out of place, Hermione surveyed her surroundings. She had always been welcomed at the Burrow, but everything was so upside down now, she did not know how to feel. She watched her new boyfriend with worry. Ron seemed in a daze, moving like an automaton through the house, he went and sat down in the living room. His eyes searched the room and settled on her as she entered. They seemed to brighten somewhat when their gazes met. She walked over to the couch and sat next to him, taking his hand in hers, unsure what to say, how to act, what to do. He put his arm up and she snuggled next to him, close enough for him to drape his arm over the back of her shoulders, his hand dangling forward a bit. She looked at him. He obviously wanted the closeness, but would not be obvious in front of the others. She quietly kissed the back of his hand before holding it with her own and leaning into him to give and receive comfort in return.

Harry and Ginny followed. Ginny plopped into a chair with Harry between her feet, seated in front of her on the floor; his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He stared at the carpet, his teeth grinding and deep in thought. Hermione knew he was thinking about Snape. He needed to sort it all out in his head before he spoke further to anyone in the room about it. She looked at George who had grown his hair to cover the lack of ear as a result of Snape's curse that went awry last summer. There would be time enough to explain to them what had really happened. Today wasn't the day. But she could see that Harry's mind did not have the luxury of choosing when to think on things at the moment.

"Feels weird," Ron said. "Being home," he added at the looks he received. His hand swept the air in an arc. "It's been so long. Nothing has changed. Well, you know." The others nodded their agreement. They were exhausted, and filthy. Bill was organizing a roster for the showers as Molly began to busy herself in the kitchen; putting on the kettle for some tea seemed to be foremost in her mind. Everything was a little bit better with a spot of tea. A clatter was heard, the kettle had slipped from her hand. Everyone was on edge. Everyone was jumpy, and everyone moved quickly to see what was the matter and help. No one was as quick as Mr. Weasley though who immediately had his arms around his wife as the sobs escaped her and she crumpled to the floor. She shook with pain; his eyes joined the flow of tears as did the rest of the household watching the matriarch's anguish so plain to see.

Ron's ears and cheeks blushed crimson as the tears pressed against his eyes. He turned on his heel and left the kitchen and headed outside. Hermione was in no better shape, but grabbed a few facial tissues and followed her boyfriend, tracing his steps to the back of the garage. She found him leaning against some tires she could only assume had been for the flying car. He was shaking slightly, but trying to get himself under control. Her heart bled, for him, his family and for her. She had lost a friend too.

Gingerly she approached him. He looked at her blankly. Tentatively, she opened her arms. He responded to her immediately, standing up fully, taking a step towards her, she towards him, her arms encircled his waist as his came lovingly around her shoulders. He bowed his head beside hers, sinking his face into her hair. It smelled of the lake and rubble, yet her scent still mingled with that of the day they had been through. It didn't bother him at all; it just brought back memories of all they had endured together in the past 24 hours. Was it really just yesterday they were getting ready to break into Lestrange's vault at Gringott's? Suddenly, he was conscious of how he must smell.

"I guess I could use a shower, huh?" he said sadly, thinking the gentlemanly thing would be to relieve her of him.

"Me too," she said muffled into his chest.

"I don't care."

"Me neither. I don't want to let go of you."

With that comment, his embrace tightened around her, enveloping her in love. He did love her; that he knew for sure. The shooting stabs of pain in his chest at the thought of losing her just three weeks earlier only served to confirm what he already suspected. Hermione Granger was an integral part of his life, had been for seven years now and if he had his way, she would always be.

Feeling his arms tighten around her, Hermione reciprocated. Taking the strength and comfort he offered her, she gave it back to him equally. She knew enough about death that they would both probably not even remember most of the happenings of this day. They were all on automatic, operating in shock. But this was still a building block of their personal relationship and right now, memory was all too vivid. Time and coping mechanisms of the mind would block out the intensity of the sorrow, temper the peaks of pain so that good memories of Fred and the others they had lost would be paramount in their minds when they thought of them—not how they died. Suddenly the moment flashed in her mind—the lifeless eyes...and Ron's heart on his sleeve as he cried in angry despair for his lost brother. She had come out to comfort him, but found herself wracked with pain too. Her chest seized, causing her to intake air desperately as she sobbed into him. Somehow, he embraced her even more fully, and his heart entwined that much more with hers at the shared experience of the ravages of war. They remained in each other's desperate grip for some time, even after the sobs had subsided, until their legs became slightly numb from immobility.

Hermione leaned back to look at him, her hand coming up to caress his face. Her thumb gently moved back and forth across his tear stained cheek. Their eyes and hearts connecting like never before in silent communication. He took her hand from his face finally and placed a gentle kiss in her palm and then held it against his chest.

"I'm here for you too. My brother, but... your friend. We both lost people here," he swallowed, trying to figure out what to say to her, his eyes searching the bright blue sky briefly. "I don't want you to feel like you always have to be here for me. Do you understand?" He shook his head, figuring he wasn't getting across what he meant to say to her. "You are so strong, but you don't always have to be. I don't expect you to be. I hope that in the rough moments, you know that I can be here for you too, the way you are right now for me." His lips felt dry. His rolled his bottom lip into his mouth and ran his tongue across it, then pursed his lips together awkwardly. But his eyes never left hers as he spoke.

Hermione had been staring at him, almost blankly. She felt hollow inside with all the loss around them, yet in the midst of it all was this boy in front of her, opening his heart, offering himself to her while he was in so much pain. Boy—no, that label had been disappearing since he came back after Christmas. She felt her chest compress at the emotions he was bringing out in her. "I do. And you are." Merlin, he was so suddenly attractive to her as her gaze focussed on his mouth. She felt like she was being drawn in like a magnet as he looked at her. She knew his intent was not to kiss her in that moment, but perhaps that was why he was so compelling. His immediacy permeated her. She smiled, tilting her face up at him and opened her lips to invite him to her. Her hand still covered by his over his chest as he bent slightly to meet her half way. Their lips met, connecting them heart, mind, and body. Softly, they gave to each other the love that was in their hearts in the gentle kiss.

Slowly they parted, bowing foreheads together. Hermione laughed softly, unsure. "Was that an appropriate response? I don't know what is appropriate right now," she whispered hoarsely.

He smiled at her. "Felt all right to me." She beamed up at him. "Hell of a way to begin a relationship," he said wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Remembering the tissue she had brought, Hermione offered him one which he gratefully accepted, put to use, and shoved it in his pocket. "I suppose—if you think we actually started today."

Placing her hand in the crook of his arm in an old fashioned way, she led him back to the tires and they sat down together and took a deep breath. She waited for her words to register with him, it was not long. His head jerked in her direction. He smiled lightly at her comment.

"No, I don't. It began years ago for me. Just too much of an idiot to take the chance."

"No argument from me," she said softly.

For the first time in what seemed like ages, he grinned and it reached into his eyes. "That's a first," he said teasingly.

She smiled at him and reached to take his hand in hers. "Perhaps they'll be a second."

He laughed and then sobered. He reached out and gently pushed a windswept strand of hair behind her ear, and action he had always wanted to do. "Hermione, I don't know how to do this," he confided to her in a whisper.

"What?"

"This. You and me." She looked alarmed for a moment and he quickly shook his head. "How do I be here with you, block out the world for just a little bit and be happy that we're finally together, knowing all the while that back there, is emptiness and sorrow," he said jerking his thumb in the direction of the house behind him. "Does nothing good in life come without a price?"

"It seems that way, doesn't it? War has a way of taking away so much, but it does give something too. Perspective. What are truly important in life are family and the people you care for." She paused a moment in reflection. "Perhaps, there is no price here, but a gift. Might we be a gift to each other? To see each other through the bad times?"

He smiled in admiration of her. "Has anyone ever told you, you're brilliant?"

She returned his smile and leaned in to kiss him softly. "I thought that title had transferred to you. You know, you really were brilliant in the heat of battle. It's your calling Ron. You were right on track when you said years ago that you thought you wanted to be an auror. I think you'd be brilliant at it, you know."

"I don't know."

"I do."

"No, what I mean is I don't know what I want to do right now, let alone a future," he said as he spied George walking toward the nearby fence and leaning against it. His eyes narrowed in assessment.

Hermione followed his gaze. Slowly, they got up to walk over, hand in hand, to join him at the railing.

George turned towards them as he heard their approach. Noting the hands entwined, he grinned. "It's about time, you two."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Ron said.

George frowned. "Because you two have been dancing around each other for years. It's been obvious to everyone that you two have a connection and you should give it a try."

"Well, it helps if we are both on the same page at the same time," said Hermione.

"Fred's been saying for years, "If Ron doesn't ask Granger out, he's a fool. A girl that great will be spoken for before you know it.""

"Does that mean you're still a fool, Sweetheart, since you still haven't actually asked me out?" Hermione quipped. George laughed.

Ron stared at her a moment. She had never used a term of endearment on him before. He was shocked, amused, and elated at the same time. George balked a second and then a hint of happy embarrassment crept over Ron. He was not used to anyone openly caring for him in front of his family.

"Blimey, I don't know, _honey_. Does that make you fool's gold, then?"

Hermione punched him in the stomach playfully. George laughed at the interplay. "Touché, little brother. Uh, you two aren't going to be all sappy, are you?" he added with a mild look of trepidation.

Ron responded, "No," simultaneously as Hermione answered, "Depends on the day."

George laughed in spite of himself. "Well, you two will never be boring. Seriously though, I think it's great. I really do." He reached out and gave Hermione a brotherly hug and smiled at her before heading back to the house. As she looked at him, Hermione could swear he might as well have said welcome to the family in the look he gave her. She shook her head. Surely, she was imagining things. She turned to Ron, whom she found beaming from ear to ear.

"What?"

"Okay, I can do this. We can do this," he corrected quickly as he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. Hermione sank into a deepening kiss that left her weak in the knees when they parted.

"Uh," she said breathlessly, "You needed his permission for us to be together?"

He laughed. "No. But it's great to have it all the same under these circumstances."

"True."

"You and me. We're _in_ this together?"

"Afraid so."

"Okay," he said softly as he looked at her beckoning lips. "Does that constitute asking you out?"

"Hey! I thought you weren't going to be sappy!" George yelled as the screen door slammed.


End file.
